Tag Archives: Vaginas

Periods Are The Worst

Warning: this post is grosser than usual. Don’t read it.

I woke up at 7 this morning with unbelievable stomach pains. I was still a little drunk so my first reaction was, “Oh, beer shits.” I contemplated getting up but decided I was too lazy – I toughed it out and tried to go back to sleep. Then it dawned on me that the Jarry Poutine (for those unfamiliar, it’s a delicacy made of fries, thick gravy and cheese curds, topped with smoked meat) I had a mere few hours earlier was probably trying to sneak its way out. I almost got up but again chose to stay in bed. As my stomach ache worsened, I realized that the pain wasn’t caused by either of those things – I had my period. And I’d completely forgotten about it. I hadn’t strapped one of those nighttime pads (or ‘horse pads’ as my friend Bianca calls them) on before going to bed and I’d slept in my underwear. Before I could even consider the potential mess I’d made of my sheets, I freaked out and ran to the bathroom.

To my surprise, my undies were clean. There was no blood in the bowl, either. I thought this was incredibly weird but was like, “Whatever, I don’t have time to deal with this” (even though in retrospect I had ample time). I reached for a tampon and began sticking it in. For some reason, I had trouble. This annoyed me so I just stuck it in harder because like I said, there was no time. I then realized that I had possibly drunkenly forgotten to take my tampon out before going to bed. And that I was therefore wearing two super absorbency tampons. Holy shit. I nervously felt around for two strings but could only locate one. I guess that reassured me so I went back to bed.

But now I’m really scared. Did I lose a tampon in me? Is that even possible? I googled it (it seems to be a very popular question, by the way) and answers vary. Health sites seem to say that it can’t happen, whereas people on Yahoo Answers insist it can. I know the peeps on Yahoo aren’t remarkably intelligent (see: how is babby formed?) but I think I’m gonna have to side with them on this one for no reason whatsoever.

I’m hoping my vag will just push this bad boy out itself. I remember once I really had to take a shit at work. As many of you know, I don’t use public washrooms for anything other than peeing. Ever. That’s how bad I had to poop that day. My stomach was killing me; I was hunched over and sweating all over my desk. So I marched right to the last stall, ready to face my fear. Well, I ended up sitting there for a while. Nothing was coming out. So I pushed really, really hard. I was making a scrunched-up face and everything. Then I FINALLY passed something. It was a tiny Plop! sound but a plop nonetheless. I looked in the bowl and to my surprise, I’d pushed out a tampon, not a poop. I didn’t even know I was wearing a tampon! I actually started laughing all by myself. I can only imagine how insane I must have seemed to other employees in the bathroom.

So yeah, I guess I’ll try to handle this sitch on my own but I could also really use some advice. Am I freaking out over nothing? I honestly can’t remember if I’d taken my tampon out or not. I might have. Should I go see my gyno? I don’t feel like it.

Help. Love,


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Cosmopolitan Crap

I used to read Cosmo mags all the time when I was younger because I stole them from my work. I was a 16 year old virgin who hadn’t ever seen a dick, yet I couldn’t resist the promise of juicy sex tips. What were the 194 new ways to please my man? What was the secret sex move that drives 72% of men wild? What could I tell about his personality from his bulge? There was so much I needed to learn! Of course, the magazine’s intrigue wore off after just a few issues. I recall reading one particular article suggesting women show cleavage to land that promotion they’re after. I couldn’t believe it. If I remember correctly, a photo of a model wearing glasses floating near the tip of her nose, a leopard print bra peeking out of a mostly-unbuttoned shirt, a form-fitting pencil skirt and unbelievably high heels ran alongside the article. Coincidentally, that is what I wear to the office every day (except on casual Friday – that’s when I break out the ol’ PVC corset). All jokes aside, I was fuming. I convinced myself I’d start a petition – or at the very least, write a letter – in hopes of shutting this bullshit magazine down.

Well, I got lazy, but on the bright side, the article served as a wake up call. After that, I was able to see the magazine for what it truly is: formulaic crap designed to generate mass profit off women’s fears and insecurities. OK, so that wasn’t exactly the revelation of the century, but trust me – millions of women read this thing every month, from cover to cover, and use it as an instruction manual.

Let’s have a look at the January 2010 issue, shall we?

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Gyno Goosebumps

gynoI hate going to the gynecologist. I know some of the ladies reading this have never gone, so I thought I’d describe a typical appointment for you. I’m so kind. For the sake of simplicity, I’ll refer to the gyno as a ‘he’ in this post. Yes, my gyno is a man. Yes, I think it makes the whole thing super awkward, but he’s thorough and helpful. That’s what matters. Also, please keep in mind that I’m not some sort of gynecological master. I’m not familiar with all the medical vocab and whatnot; I’m just discussing the experience from my point of view.

OK, I don’t know what it’s like at all gyno offices, but at mine, you show up on time for your appointment and are seen about 3 hours later. Bring reading material, unless you wanna check out genital wart pamphlets (which are admittedly pretty informative). The first thing they do is take your blood pressure, which is no biggie. I actually like it. Sometimes I stick my arm in the blood pressure machine thing at the pharmacy. I’m like an old person like that.

So, after that fun experience, you’re sent to a little investigation room. I know that ‘investigation’ is the wrong word here, but whatever, the gyno is basically investigating your vagina. He’s like a private eye for your private parts. You’re told to take off your pants and underwear and cover yourself with a big paper square. I realize this is intimidating so take deep breaths, relax a little and just get it over with. My old gyno would always barge in as I was de-pantsing. So rude. That’s one of the reasons why I stopped seeing her.

The first time I went to the gyno, I hadn’t had sex yet. If this situation applies to you, you’re in luck! You might not have to go through the discomfort of a pap test. Basically, what happens is you get your boobs felt up. Then you get fingered (don’t worry; he uses gloves and lots of lube). And that’s it, you can leave after.

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Big Vaginas

I thought this needed to be done as a parallel to the penis size post. Guys sometimes defend themselves by adamantly claiming that it isn’t their dick that’s too small, it’s their lover’s vagina that’s too big. I guess that seems like a plausible argument. Especially when Larry David delivers it.

Based on the clip, it’s pretty clear that the nurse has a gigantic vagina, but in all fairness, Jeff doesn’t really seem like he’s packing a particularly big one, either. Plus, he fucks retards. Wait, this post isn’t about Curb Your Enthusiasm. What was it about, again? Oh yeah.

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